


Meum Calix Meus Inebrians Super

by Robomantic



Series: Every Tool is a Weapon (If You Hold it Right) [5]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comeplay, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Felching, Flirting, Hand Jobs, Hunter Stiles Stilinski, Lap Sex, M/M, Pool & Billiards, Possessive Behavior, Rimming, Sibling Incest, Threesome - M/M/M, Wincestiles now exists!, friendly wagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 19:56:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robomantic/pseuds/Robomantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>My cup runneth over</em>
</p><p>The final part of the series.  Stiles finally gets to meet Sam's brother, Dean, and well... Sam too for that matter.  Or at least Sam plus a soul.  There are drinks and pool and fun times are had by all.  <em>Very</em> fun times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meum Calix Meus Inebrians Super

**Author's Note:**

> Well this was fun, but it's the end! Sorry this last installment took longer than I would have liked. Thanks to everyone that read and kudos'd and commented :)

Stiles had been staying in contact with Derek for the last five months. They hadn’t seen each other again, but they both thought that might be for the best. There was too much pain between them through the years for them to be comfortable with much more than texts and occasional phone calls just to check in and stay updated. 

It was a tricky because sometimes they would be painfully and awkwardly aware of the emotional distance between them, but other times they’d become almost dangerously comfortable with each other, slipping into in to familiarity with ease and edging towards something almost resembling flirting. That was when they’d carefully pull back and give each other some time before they talked again. 

It wasn’t perfect, but it was slowly helping them put a dent in the serious pile of issues they had. It was nice to know that if Stiles ever died, Derek would be somewhere out there missing his calls and wondering if he was okay. Yes, it was a morbid thought, but a strangely comforting one. 

Hunting had been… well it was hunting. Sometimes things went smoothly and sometimes Stiles found himself shacking up in a motel for a week to lick his wounds and heal. It was times like that when Stiles really wished he had some kind of back up working with him. He’d partner up with hunters from time to time, but he never really trusted anyone enough to be comfortable and it was never more than once. 

Stiles was currently up in Oregon and had been investigating three deaths wherein the victims had all been impaled to death by splinters and chunks of wood while out hiking. It turned out to be an Argopelter gone rabid which was more than a little terrifying. Those little bastards were fast as hell and twice as ornery, but this one was especially unpleasant. 

Stiles had been about half a second away from having a shard of wood launched through his chest when he heard a shot ring out from behind him. He automatically hit the deck before turning to find the source of the gunshot. The mystery hunter (and he had to be a hunter to pull off that shot) came strolling--no, straight up sauntering, out of a clearing in the woods. Whoever it was, he was officially competing with Sam for the title of hottest hunter Stiles had ever met. 

“Ya know I’d like to say I would have managed on my own, but I think I owe you some thanks here. I praise your awesome sniping skills, stranger.” Stiles said with far too much eyebrow wiggling for someone who just narrowly escaped death. In his line of work, he couldn’t let a narrow miss throw off his game or he’d be a very lonely, horny man. No. Not flirting with this guy was not an option. Good god was he attractive. 

“You’re a hunter?” The guy said incredulously, giving Stiles what felt like an ocular pat-down with his far-too-pretty green eyes. 

“Wow, that never gets old.” Stiles said with an eye roll, “I could say the same for you. What are you on a break from your modeling career?” The guy got a cocky little smile at that comment, but before he could think up a retort, there was a shout coming from somewhere in the distance. 

“Dean! You alright?” Stiles could swear that voice was very familiar. 

“Yeah Sam, over here! Ganked the little bastard and saved myself a damsel in distress!” the guy, who was apparently named Dean, shouted, throwing a wink Stiles’s direction. Huh, a hunter named Dean... Wait, Dean and… Sam? Soon enough Stiles realized why the voice had sounded so familiar and why those names were setting off all kinds of alarm bells ringing in his head. 

Sam Winchester broke through the clearing and was standing there looking from Dean to Stiles with an absurdly genuine expression of concern and confusion. Stiles actually barked out a laugh. Even Sam’s O-face hadn’t been that damn expressive. The most emotive facial expression he’d ever seen out of the guy was a sneer, honestly. 

“Um, are you alright dude?” Dean asked. Sam was just giving him this adorable scrunched up eyebrow look and, god, Stiles actually couldn’t stop laughing. 

“Sam? Sam is that you? Dude, do you have a twin that’s also named Sam?” Stiles said, trying to breathe. Whatever game Sam was playing, it was good. The man could act. He only looked more adorably confused.

“Do I know you?” Sam asked. Dean was looking from Sam to Stiles like he was trying to decide which of them was crazy. 

“Do you- Do you _know_ me? Jesus dude, what’s going on with you?” Stiles said, his mouth hanging open. If this was Dean, that meant… Dean was Dean Winchester. Maybe Sam didn’t want his brother knowing about Stiles and their brief history. Made a lot of sense, but there was no way Stiles was going to give this one up. Sam should have known better. After that last meeting there was no way Stiles was letting him play innocent. 

“Dude, look. Sam… uhh… Long story, but Sam doesn’t remember so much about the last year. Whatever he did, it wasn’t him. He wasn’t in his right mind.” Dean explained. Sam cringed and studied Stiles like he was genuinely trying to remember something. This was just too much. 

“Oh wow, you’ve got to be kidding me. Here, does this ring any bells?” Stiles said, walking closer and lifting his shirt to expose the pink raised scar of the initials S.W. on his hip. Sam and Dean both leaned in to look. Sam’s mouth dropped open and Dean’s eyebrows shot straight up his forehead. 

“What the hell…. Those are my initials.” Sam said. Stiles snorted and put his shirt down. Dean still had his eyes fixed on the same spot, long after the shirt was obscuring his view, as he tried to process what the hell was going on. 

“Yeah… duh. Look, I don’t know what you think my return policy is, but you’ve already marked up the merchandise buddy. No takesies backsies.” Stiles said, strolling up to Sam and throwing his arms around the taller man’s neck, mostly just to enjoy his reaction. Sam looked hilariously flustered and went a little red in the cheeks. Dear God, he was really milking this innocent amnesiac act for all it was worth. 

“Wait… I think… You were getting attacked by a vampire…” Sam mumbled. 

“I was the one doing the attacking, if I remember correctly. Passive attacking, maybe, but I would consider myself the aggressor in that scenario. Are you seriously trying to say you don’t remember me?” Stiles asked. 

“Look, he ain’t kidding. The Sam you knew, probably a dick right?” Dean asked. Stiles just let out another squawk of laughter and Sam cringed again. 

“Yeah, you could say that. We… had some fun times though. I would think you would remember something like that. What I let you do to me with the colt….” Stiles trailed off. Sam’s eyebrows scrunched up again and he looked to the side for a moment. Suddenly his face dropped and he looked nothing short of mortified. 

“Oh! Oh…. Oh shit.” Sam said. He kinda looked like he needed to sit down. 

“Uh Sammy, you… what did you do with the colt now?” Dean asked, looking highly concerned. 

“Trust me dude, you don’t want to know.” Stiles said with a wink. Dean was obviously trying to come up with an imaginary scenario that would explain their reactions, but he looked to be coming up short. Sam was still looking kind of horrified. 

“Wow, you really are different.” Stiles said. He was starting to doubt that Sam was faking it. Sam had collapsed down to sit on a stump by that point.

“He… uh… didn’t have a soul for a while.” Dean said. 

“That… I want to be all kinds of incredulous right now, but that kinda makes sense. Well damn. Awkward…” Stiles said, rocking back and forth on his heels. 

“Wait! You! Dean, the potions, those were his! The vampire… he poisoned his blood to kill vampires.” Sam said. 

“So, you some kind of witch-slash-hunter then?” Dean asked. 

“I’d consider myself a hunter who knows more magic than most, really. Let’s not go throwing the “w” word around here. I only use magic to hunt or to protect myself.” Stiles said, but Dean was still looking at him rather warily. 

“Look, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m potion free right now, anyway. Safe as houses. You can ask around. Plenty of hunters know me. I’m totally on the level.” Stiles explained. 

“I don’t remember everything, but I do remember looking in to him, asking around. Unless… unless he’s planning on getting some revenge… which wouldn’t be entirely unjustified.” Sam said, his eyes flicking towards Stiles’s hip. 

“Nah… Revenge wouldn’t be fun anymore now that you’re all souled up. I guess you’ll just have to make it up to me the old fashioned way; copious amounts of alcohol. Anyway, this handsome devil saved my life so I’m thinking he deserves a drink too, right?” Stiles said, directing his last question to Dean. 

“I’m liking this plan.” Dean said with a grin. Funny how finding out he was Sam’s brother really hadn’t affected Stiles’s plan to flirt with Dean. In fact, it encouraged him. Though, to be honest, he wouldn’t mind giving Sam another try, now that he had his soul. Purely for science, of course. 

“So Sam, be a gentleman and finally buy me a drink?” Stiles said with a crooked grin. Sam wasn’t in as a light a mood as Stiles and Dean were, however. In fact, he looked kind of constipated.

“Oh come on. I wasn’t that bad was I?” Stiles said, a little offended at the horrified faces Sam had been making since he’d remembered their time together. 

“No! It wasn’t… I was just… I mean, the shit I did to you…” Sam muttered. Dean’s eyes looked ready to pop out of his head. Stiles rolled his eyes at the sorry bastard and went to straddle his lap. 

“So… make it up to me then?” Stiles asked, giving it his best seductive voice. He’d had psycho Sam, now he felt like he needed to give remorseful Sam a try and collect the whole set. Plus… well the guy certainly hadn’t gotten any uglier. 

“Whoa there. This seem a little wrong to anyone else here? He’s a douche bag to you and you’re sitting on his lap, I save your life and I get nothing? The hell kinda damsel are you?” Dean asked, somewhere between joking and not. Stiles grinned and got off Sam’s lap to approach Dean and pull him in by the front of shirt. He leaned in close to Dean’s ear, close enough that Dean shivered a little when Stiles’s breath ghosted over his skin. 

“Who said you weren’t invited?” He whispered. Dean looked to be pondering some pros and cons for a minute before finally settling on his response. 

“Well then, how ‘bout that drink?” he said. Sam groaned and rolled his eyes, but Stiles noticed he wasn’t exactly protesting either. He mentally fist pumped. One way or another, _someone_ was going to make up for that damn scar on his hip and if he could take it out in orgasms, that’d be just fine. Then again, he was getting a little bit ahead of himself. Drinks first, then he’d see what kind of depraved things he could talk these Winchesters into. There was no way Sam’s re-souling had taken all of the kink out of him and as for Dean, well, Stiles was willing to be optimistic.

The three of them met up at a little hole in the wall bar that was in the process of being claimed by the hipsters. Luckily the drink prices hadn’t been raised accordingly yet, but Dean still glared at the vegan café next door as they walked in. Stiles was pretty sure he was going to like Dean. 

It was early enough in the evening that they had the bar to themselves other than a couple of old drunks posted up as close to the bartender as they could manage. Sam headed over to the bar to get a round of drinks while Dean made a beeline straight to the pool table.

“You play?” Dean asked as Stiles strolled up to the pool table after him. 

“If I say no, will you do that super manly thing where you come up behind me and teach me how to hold the cue right?” Stiles asked. Dean cracked a grin and came up behind him, pressing in close. 

“Nah, you seem like you know how to handle a stick just fine.” Dean said, his low voice sending shivers up Stiles’s spine. Damn, just flirting with Dean was worth the price of admission. He hadn’t had this much fun in a long time and they’d barely gotten started. 

“Well aren’t you intuitive?” Stiles said, letting himself push back against Dean just a little before pulling away just in time for Sam to show up with a few bottles of beer. 

“Aw, what if I’d wanted an appletini?” Stiles asked, looking at the beer. Sam and Dean both exchanged horrified glances and Stiles laughed. 

“Dude, I was kidding.” He said and the brothers visibly relaxed a little, “Don’t worry, I’m an easy drunk. I’ll take whatever.” He said with a shrug. Sam raised an eyebrow at him and Dean’s mouth opened and closed a couple times like he couldn’t decide which double entendre to deal with first. Stiles was just glad to see their minds were in the right-- wrong place. 

“So which of you two is better at pool?” Stiles asked, taking a swig from his beer. 

“Oh come on, like you have to ask. I taught this kid everything he knows.” Dean said, but Sam just rolled his eyes. 

“What? Come on, Sammy. I would kick your ass and you know it.” Dean said with a grin, nudging his brother in the ribs. 

“Oh yeah? Then you wouldn’t mind proving it?” Sam asked. Dean just scoffed. 

“Ooh shit! Brotherly rivalry? I’m all over this. I’ll be your referee!” Stiles said with an obnoxious grin, insinuating himself between them to throw an arm over their shoulders. 

“ _But,_ I think we should make it a little more interesting.” He added, casually letting his fingers trail along the napes of their necks. He didn’t miss the little shiver Dean gave at the touch and he filed that information away for later. 

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” Sam said, reminding Stiles yet again that this was a very different Sam than the one he’d known. He wasn’t sure if he should be pleased or disappointed. 

“Dude, don’t be a wimp. Unless you’re afraid of losing?” Dean said. Stiles was really enjoying having Dean’s help talking Sam into things. Hell, he didn’t even know what Stiles was suggesting yet and he was on board. 

“Oh I’m not worried about losing. What are we playing for?” Sam said, apparently unable to resist his brother’s challenge. 

“Me.” Stiles said with a grin and a shrug. Sam gave Stiles a considering look and, for the first time since he’d seen him in the woods, Stiles saw a little glimpse of the Sam he knew. Yeah, he was onboard. Dean, meanwhile, was just giving him this cocky grin like he’d already won. Either way, the game went, it was certainly going to be interesting. The brothers racked up the balls and did a quick round of rock-paper-scissors to determine who would break. 

“Scissors again, Dean?” Sam said with apparent glee in gaining the upper hand. Dean just glared. Stiles couldn’t help himself. He walked up behind Dean and slid a hand across down his hip. 

“Aw come on, you’re better at pool than you are at rock-paper-scissors, right? I mean, you certainly had pretty good aim back in the woods.” Stiles whispered with a lascivious grin. He was not above encouraging two hot guys competing for him. Whether they were more interested in the prize or the simple joy of beating their brother at something, Stiles didn’t really care. Hopefully he’d win either way. 

While the brothers played their game, Stiles made sure to keep the beers coming and occasionally flitted back and forth to flirt and tease and occasionally taunt when the situation called for it. Sam and Dean were doing pretty well with the crap-talking aspect of the game, ribbing at each other with a practiced ease that made Stiles miss Derek a little. They’d been a lot like that before the fire. Sam and Dean were “bitch” and “jerk”; Derek and Stiles were “sourwolf” and… well, “Stiles”. Derek had always found a way to use Stiles’s name as both a term of endearment and an insult simultaneously. 

Sam and Dean stayed pretty neck and neck for a while, but Sam ended up prevailing in the end. Dean looked like someone had spit in his ice cream. It seemed he really hadn’t expected Sam to win. 

“Aw. This seems so wrong now! I mean, come on, Dean did save my life…” Stiles said with a bit of a pout. He was totally about to go out on a ledge, but fuck it; YOLO and all that good stuff. Both brothers just gave him a questioning look. Stiles took a moment to finish the last couple drinks of his beer, keenly aware that they were both watching the way his lips wrapped around the bottle.

“Well, I mean, it was a pretty close game. Maybe… maybe you should just share the prize.” Stiles said with a grin and a shrug. Let the chips fall where they may. Surprisingly, the brothers looked at him with matching dark grins. 

“Oh, I don’t know. I’d hate to intrude.” Dean said, still grinning. 

“Nah, you wouldn’t be intruding at all. I mean, you did save his life after all.” Sam said, looking downright wolfish. The bastards were teasing him. Hell, Stiles was beginning to feel like they might have suggested this themselves if he hadn’t beaten them to it. Well damn. Stiles would have complained about a Winchester (or now two) always being a step ahead of him, but it was kinda working out in his favor this time. 

“Gee, so glad you two are willing to cooperate.” Stiles said with a grin and an exaggerated eye roll. Suddenly they were both caging him in, Sam at his front and Dean at his back, broad callused hands pressing into him. 

“We can be very cooperative when we want to be.” Sam said, leaning in to kiss against Stiles’s neck, just below his ear. 

“Yeah, I think we work pretty well together.” Dean added, his lips pressed against Stiles’s pulse point on the other side of his neck. Stiles was fairly certain he was in over his head… yet again. 

“Oh… ok.” Stiles said dumbly, a little too distracted by the insane amount of hot man bracketing him on either side to say much more. Sam and Dean didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that they were melting his brain. He suspected it may have been payback for the considerable amount of teasing he’d been doing throughout the game and before. 

The Winchesters led him out to their car and Sam opened the passenger side door for him. Stiles thought Sam was giving up the front seat, but was surprised when he climbed in right after and scooted Stiles to the middle of the bench seat. Stiles sat there between Dean and Sam feeling the low rumble of the car and he was pretty sure that alone counted as a form of foreplay. Then Sam decided to take it to the next level and Stiles learned that his penchant for dirty talk was not dependent on whether he had a soul or not. 

“I remember you. I remember you were so good for me.” Sam whispered in his ear, his broad hand sliding up Stiles’s thigh, “I’m a lot nicer now, but I still want you to be a good boy for me. Want you to listen to me and Dean, you can do that right?” Sam said, his hand finally coming up to cup Stiles through his jeans. Stiles could see Dean grinning out of the corner of his eye. He was so fucked. 

“Yeah… yeah.” Stiles gasped out as Sam squeezed him a little and bit down on his earlobe. 

“Fuck, you’re killing me here. Why the hell am I the one driving again?” Dean said, adjusting his thickening cock in his jeans with the hand that wasn’t on the wheel.

“You did technically lose the bet, Dean, so quit complaining.” Sam said, chastising Dean even as he unbuttoned Stiles’s jeans. Stiles arched his back and groaned as Sam reached into his pants to pull out his cock. 

“I want you to come for me right here in the car so we can take our time with you back at the motel. “ Sam said, giving Stiles’s cock a couple strokes before lifting his hand up to Stiles’s face, “Get it wet for me.” 

Stiles licked at Sam’s palm, wet and filthy, before taking a thick finger between his lips to suck for a moment. Sam grinned his approval and reached down to grip him again. He started stroking, the spit on his hand mixing with the copious amounts of precome leaking from Stiles’s cock. The wet sound of skin on skin, along with the dirty moans coming from Stiles, was enough to make Dean groan in despair at having to pay attention to the road. Stiles wasn’t sure if it would make things worse or better for Dean, but he reached over and pressed his hand against the bulge in Dean’s jeans. 

“Fuck!” Dean cursed and bucked his hips up a little into the touch. Well damn. Apparently Sam and Dean had more in common than hunting and good looks. There wasn’t any doubt that both Winchesters were blessed in the downstairs region. Stiles would have been content to stroke Dean right into a car crash, but Sam pulled him back. 

“Not yet.” He said. Instead he guided Stiles’s hand down to his cup his own balls. Stiles got the hint and teased himself as Sam went back to stroking him. Stiles let out a little moan every time Sam’s thumb circled his head between each stroke. He could feel the ways his balls tightened up as he played with them and he couldn’t help spreading his legs wantonly, a thigh pressed against each brother. 

“There we go, just like that. Get your finger wet; want you to play with that tight little hole while I jack you off.” Sam said and both Stiles and Dean groaned simultaneously. Stiles was starting to think Sam’s dirty mouth might get them killed quicker than Stiles’s hand could have. He did as Sam told him and slid a spit-slicked finger down between his legs as Sam continued to stroke. He circled his finger around his puckered opening and his hips stuttered, thrusting up into Sam’s fist. 

“Fuck! So fucking close. Sam, please!” Stiles moaned. He wasn’t sure that his pleas made much of a difference though. He pressed the slick pad of his finger against his hole and shot off into Sam’s hand with a few jerky thrust of his hips, just in time for Dean to pull into the motel parking lot. 

As soon as the car stopped Dean pulled Sam’s hand from Stiles’s cock and towards his mouth. Stiles was fairly certain he was going to implode if Dean actually licked his spunk from his brother’s fingers. He actually let out a little whimper when Sam pulled his hand away before Dean could get to it.

“Wait, Dean.” Sam said and then turned to give Stiles a pointed look. Oh… right. He’d forgotten about that. _He’d_ forgotten, but the guy with the partial amnesia hadn’t. 

“Dude! It’s fine! I promise!” Stiles said. Sam seemed to believe him and even if he didn’t, Dean would end up paralyzed and then Stiles would have Sam left to deal with. Anyway, he definitely didn’t want Dean out of the game this early. 

“Um…?” Dean said, looking between the two of them with concern. Sam decided against trying to explain and instead smiled and lifted his messy fingers to Dean’s mouth as if to say, _”Have at it.”_ Dean’s enthusiasm returned quickly enough. He traced his tongue up one of Sam’s long fingers and the look Sam was giving him as he did it was downright pornographic. His pupils were blown wide and his mouth hanging open as he watched Dean lick and suck every trace of Stiles’s come from his fingers. Stiles wasn’t surprised to feel his spent cock already thickening up again. 

“Okay, we need to take this inside and just… holy shit.” Stiles said, trailing off as Sam slid his thumb along his brother’s lower lip, getting it shiny wet with come. Stiles couldn’t resist leaning forward to lick out at Sam’s thumb and then Dean’s mouth, tasting himself on both of them. 

Sam snapped out of it first and pulled his thumb away to open the door of the Impala and pull Stiles out with him. Dean joined them at the door to the motel room and unlocked the door with impressive speed. The moment they were inside, both brothers were working in tandem to rid Stiles of his clothes as quickly as possible. It was teamwork at its finest. Dean pulled off Stiles’s shirt while Sam yanked down his jeans and underwear. They then guided him to sit on the edge of the bed so they could pull his shoes and socks off and pull his pants and underwear the rest of the way off his legs. Stiles was pretty sure he’d never been undressed that quickly in his life. 

Stiles reached for Sam’s fly to return the favor and much to his pleasure, Dean decided to help by pulling off his brother’s shirt as Stiles worked on stripping down his lower half. Once Sam was naked, he and Stiles turned to do the same to Dean. By the time they were done, Stiles was pretty sure they could have formed an Olympic relay team… for getting naked. You couldn’t really blame him for having incredibly stupid thoughts like that when he was faced with two very naked and very fucking gorgeous Winchesters. 

Stiles kind of felt like a kid at an amusement park; he didn’t know which ride he wanted to try first. Luckily Sam and Dean were more than willing to take the lead. Dean sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and pulled him onto his lap. Stiles let out an embarrassing squeak as he felt Dean’s cock press against his ass. Dean nuzzled into his neck, biting and sucking as his hands slid down Stiles’s thighs. Sam walked away to get something and then came to kneel in front of them. 

“You want Dean to fuck you, don’t you?” Sam asked. Stiles opened his mouth to say yes, but he ended up moaning instead as Dean bit down on the crook of his neck so he just settled for nodding eagerly. As soon as Dean felt him nodding, he grabbed Stiles by the backs of his thighs to lift and spread his legs, opening him up for Sam. 

Sam leaned in and started kissing his way down Stiles’s thigh, occasionally nipping at the soft flesh just to feel Stiles tense up and gasp. Stiles’s hips bucked forward as Sam started licking down the crease of his thigh to his taint and he could feel Dean’s bare cock grinding up against him from below. Suddenly he realized how close Sam’s mouth was to Dean’s cock and the thought made him moan and rock his hips again just as Sam’s tongue lapped across his hole. 

“There ya go, sweetheart. Just let Sammy open you up for me. Gonna get you nice and wet.” Dean said, his hands brushing up and down the backs of Stiles’s thighs as he held him open. Stiles couldn’t help notice that one of Sam’s hands had migrated to his hip to thumb over the scars of his initials. It made him wonder where soulful Sam ended and soulless Sam began. There was a good chance Sam might be wondering that same thing. 

“Oh fuck, please! Sam just… I need more.” Stiles pleaded as Sam continued to lick over his hole with little laps, never quite giving Stiles enough. 

“All you had to do was ask.” Sam said, looking up with a devious grin. This time when Sam ducked back down to return to what he was going, he did it with a vengeance. Stiles bucked his hips, letting out broken pleas for more, deeper, harder. 

“Hold your legs up for me.” Dean grunted. Stiles gripped the backs of knees, leaving Dean’s hands free to reach down and spread Stiles wider for Sam tongue and probing fingers. The sensations were only more intense as Sam licked in deeper, fucking Stiles with his tongue. Sam paused and flicked open a bottle of lube to slick up a couple of fingers, his tongue still delving in alongside them. Stiles wanted to keep watching, but his head fell back against Dean’s shoulder as he moaned and panted with every twist of Sam’s fingers. 

Stiles could hear the lube bottle being opened again, but Sam’s fingers withdrew and didn’t return. Suddenly he could feel Dean tense up underneath him and lift him up a little higher and he realized that Sam was now busy lubing up Dean’s cock. The anticipation made Stiles’s thighs twitch. 

“You ready?” Sam asked and Stiles finally leaned forward to look at him. Sam looked completely debauched. His mouth flushed and wet with saliva and lube and his eyes dark with lust, so eager to watch Stiles sink down onto his brother’s cock. Stiles was actually grateful that no one was touching his cock at that moment, because it would have been all over then and there and he was kind of hoping to get Dean inside him before he came again. 

“God yes, please!” Stiles moaned out, tired of feeling empty when he could feel the heat of Dean’s cock so close to him. Sam positioned Dean’s cock against Stiles’s hole and Dean groaned as he slowly lowered Stiles down. Stiles couldn’t keep his eyes off Sam and the dark hungry look in his eyes as he watched Stiles take Dean’s cock in to the root. He tried to keep his eyes open through the delicious burn and stretch just to keep watching Sam watching him. Stiles had accepted his kink for being held open, exposed, and inspected. Having Sam so close, watching him take every inch, drove him crazy. 

“So damn tight, fuck. How’s he look all stretched out around my cock?” Dean asked, lifting Stiles up to let him drop back down. 

“Fucking perfect.” Sam moaned and before Stiles could even compute the possibility, he was leaning forward to lick around Stiles’s stretched rim and the place where Dean’s cock was sliding in and out of him. 

“Fuck Sammy! Jesus Christ!” Dean cursed, feeling Sam’s tongue dart out around the base of his cock. 

“I want to taste you fuck him.” Sam practically growled in between swipes of his broad tongue. He bent down lower and Stiles couldn’t feel his tongue anymore, but he could tell by the way Dean was groaning that Sam’s tongue was still busy elsewhere. 

“Sam, get up on the bed.” Dean said, nodding towards the head of the bed. Sam reluctantly pulled away and went to sit on the bed with his back against the headboard. Dean lifted Stiles up off his lap and gave his ass a little slap. 

“Get up on your hands and knees, towards Sam.” Dean said, his voice low and rough. Stiles didn’t hesitate to crawl up between the vee of Sam’s legs. Sam just grinned and reached out to trace his thumb along the cupid’s bow of Stiles’s lips while Dean got up behind Stiles, pressing forward eagerly. 

“Suck him.” Dean ordered and Stiles didn’t hesitate, wrapping his lips around the thick head of Sam’s cock. The strange thing was that he could swear Sam actually tasted different than he remembered. There were probably plenty of reasons for that, but he couldn’t help wonder if having a soul actually affected the flavor of a person’s semen. Stiles abandoned that tangent in favor of focusing on swallowing down as much of Sam’s thick cock as he could take. He let himself gag a little, remembering how Sam was affected by it the last time he did it. He expected Sam’s loud groan and the thrust of his hips, but he didn’t expect Dean’s reaction.

“Shit!” Dean shouted, pausing his thrusts for a second and jerking forward. Stiles realized he must have clenched up, squeezing tight around Dean’s cock, when he gagged. That was enough incentive to try it again, letting Sam’s cock push all the way in to the back of his throat. He knew he was going to be rasping when he finally had his mouth free to talk again, but the thought only turned him on more. 

“Such a good little cocksucker.” Dean said, thrusting into Stiles hard and deep. Instead of gripping Stiles’s hips, he grabbed his ass and spread him open to get a better view of the way Stiles’s hole swallowed him up. Stiles could barely decide where to focus his attention at that point, too overwhelmed to even try. Instead he just let it all wash over him, rocking back and forth between the Winchesters. 

“So close, come on. You’re gonna swallow it all, aren’t you?” Sam said, his voice breathy and trembling as Stiles brought him closer to the edge. Stiles managed to nod eagerly, even with the cock filling up his mouth. Sam’s moans got louder, his abs clenching wildly as he shot his load into Stiles’s waiting mouth. 

“Fuck fuck fuck.” Dean chanted, apparently watching Stiles get his brother off helped push him right to the edge too. Dean shuddered and cursed again as he spilled inside Stiles. Sam got up and went to kneel next to Dean at the foot of the bed to watch as Dean pulled out. The moment Dean pulled away, they flipped Stiles onto his back. 

“Please, I need you to make me come.” Stiles pleaded, his dick still curving up toward his belly, hard and leaking. Sam lifted Stiles’s legs up to plant his feet against the mattress and started stroking his cock for him, pace just a little too slow and grip just a little too lax. 

“Come on Sam, fuck. Please just fucking do it.” Stiles groaned, managing to thrust up into Sam’s grip a couple time before Dean came and slotted himself behind him, pulling Stiles back toward him. Dean reached around and replaced Sam’s hand with his own and started stroking. He gave him a little more friction than Sam had, but it still wasn’t quite enough to give Stiles what he needed to come again. He realized why when Sam leaned forward and started licking his way down Stiles’s balls toward his taint.

“Oh no fucking way. You’re- you’re going to fucking kill me-nngghhh.” Stiles managed to get out before Sam’s tongue darted out to lick into Stiles’s leaking hole. He was fairly certain he was no longer functioning on a verbal level. Feeling Sam lick Dean’s come from his ass was probably the most brain-meltingly hot, filthy, dirty, so goddamn deliciously wrong thing he’d ever experienced. Dean tightened his grip, twisting his wrist just right, and when Stiles actually heard a wet slurp from Sam, he fucking lost it. Come splattered up his chest and all over Dean’s hand, some dripping down his balls to join the mess Sam was still licking up. 

Stiles shuddered with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Sam crawled up next to him on the bed, the brothers pulling Stiles between them and encasing him in their arms. Dean behind him, one arm under a pillow and the other thrown over Stiles’s chest while Sam had one arm entwined with Dean’s under the pillow and the other resting possessively over the mark on Stiles’s hip. Apparently Sam was a kinky little bastard whether he had a soul or not. 

“Shower?” Stiles asked, resorting to single word communication in his mind melted state. 

“No point. Now shh, you should be resting up for round two.” Dean said. 

“Fuckkkk.” Stiles groaned, his poor spent cock twitching in interest at the very thought. One way or another, he suspected the Winchesters would be the death of him. 

*

Stiles had stayed with the Winchesters for a couple days after that. Apparently Sam was very determined to leave Stiles with a better impression now that he had his soul back. That or he was actually trying to kill Stiles with cock. 

Dean joined in a couple more times, but Sam seemed to want some one on one time with Stiles. Stiles was kind of concerned that Sam took the mark a little too seriously based on the way he would trace over it with his fingers anytime they were lying together, but when the time came for them to part ways there was nothing awkward about it that suggested the mark might mean more than it did. 

When they parted ways, no one was left paralyzed, bound, or permanently scarred. Nothing was stolen from either the Winchesters or Stiles. Despite the semi-incestuous threesomes, it was probably the most normal weekend Stiles had in a long while. 

Derek and Stiles stayed in touch and eventually they decided to give in and meet up again. After that they only managed to stay apart for a couple weeks before they found each other next. Stiles knew they were treading on dangerous territory, but that was probably half the reason they were doing it. 

Besides, it was pretty damn handy to have a werewolf on hand while you were hunting. Damn useful creatures, they were. At least, when they weren’t being impossible assholes. 

Sam and Dean never really fell off Stiles’s radar, but it was a good long while before they crossed paths again. The next time they all met, Stiles was with Derek. Luckily, the Winchesters didn’t seem eager to slice and dice Derek for the simple crime of being a werewolf, but Stiles wasn’t lucky enough to avoid near bloodshed entirely. 

“Derek, this is Sam Winchester and that’s his brother Dean. Guys, this is Derek.” Stiles said, trying his best to remain cool as two very volatile pieces of his past came together for the first time. Unfortunately he’d already fucked up without realizing it. Why? _Why_ did he have to use Sam’s full name? 

“Sam Winchester…” Derek trailed off. The crease between his brows deepened as the gears started turning.

“S.W.” Derek said, the pieces finally clicking into place. Sam made the connection too and grimaced as Derek’s eyes flashed red. 

“Oh fuck.” Stiles said, scrabbling to think of a way to defuse the situation. 

Hmm… maybe he should suggest a foursome?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :) Whether or not the foursome idea works out for Stiles, that'll remain up to your imagination. 
> 
> Check out [my tumblr](http://cultofcastiel.tumblr.com/) over here. Pretty much a Teen Wolf and Supernatural fandom blog, if you're into that sorta thing :)


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